Hitori
by Acetaminophen
Summary: Sometimes hope isn't enough. Sometimes sanity isn't an option. (WiP; Eiri-centric) Just a heads-up
1. 00 ::Prisonic Fairytale::

**Disclaimer**: Eiri is not mine, Shuuichi is not mine, Touma and the rest of them don't belong to me either. The poem contained in the prologue is not mine, but was contributed by an acquaintance. I should probably also mention that the chapter titles have been taken from a video game soundtrack, and are the property of Akira Yamaoka and Konami. They're also responsible for the inspiration. 

I would also like to add that what you're about to read is not your typical, run-of-the-mill character death fic. In fact, I'd like to think that I've twisted the archetype just enough to render it 'original' and/or 'entertaining'. But I'll let you decide. I hope you enjoy "Hitori", and feedback is muchly appreciated. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
**Hitori**   
By Katsumi 

**Prologue: Prisonic Fairytale**   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Pacing. That's all that kept him occupied anymore, all that kept his mind busy. One step, two steps, right foot, left. Rearranging random articles, never pictures though. When he came close to a frame, he would look the other way, he would turn around and go back into the other room to see if everything was still in its place. 

The pictures were fine, he would tell himself. They were okay the way they were, off-center, crooked... turned over to lay on their faces. They didn't need to be fixed, they were fine. 

He was fine. 

Touma was wrong. Tatsuha and Mika and the rest of them were wrong. 

He was fine. 

For six years, he lived alone, shied away from normal human contact. For six years he was able to live a perfectly normal life and make a perfectly normal living writing his perfectly normal books in his perfectly normal apartment. 

Obviously Shuuichi had interrupted all of that. //A brief interlude, that's what it was. It was nice, even if nothing seemed to go right... but when everything settled down... // 

They were wrong. 

He was fine. 

~*~ 

When night fell, there wasn't enough noise. He'd gone out and purchased a CD Walkman //can't use Shuuichi's// in order to fill his head with noise late into the night without worrying whether or not he'd have to fight with his neighbors. 

Random CDs. 

Never Shuuichi's. 

Never any of Bad Luck's albums, even though all of them were stored safely in the back of a CD wallet, tucked securely in a box under his bed. The box that also held photographs, letters, a silly stuffed pink rabbit he'd never quite gotten used to or understood the purpose of... 

The box hadn't been touched since it had been shoved under the bed three weeks ago. 

The bed that hadn't been slept in for just as long. 

The couch was just as comfortable, even though he hadn't slept on it in over a month. 

Yuki Eiri didn't sleep. Yuki Eiri paced. 

And now, coming to a stop in front of the glowing screen of his laptop, he saw that a document was open. A text document, hiding the simple green desktop peeking out from behind. For a moment, he could only glare at it, as if the square of white and black was the reason for his listlessness, wondering why the damn thing was even open to begin with. 

Scowling, he skimmed over the lines of text... 

_o/~Two sides one might see   
The callous reflecting compassion   
Or the compassion showing the need   
A lonely cloud that fashions   
A silver lining if need be _

He is but a wandering thought   
Wondering if he is so much more   
Unknowing his purpose makes him harsh   
Cutting up the hearts of those he adores   
Love will never see him bought~\o 

He blinked, disbelieving. 

Lyrics. They were lyrics. Poorly written, awkwardly structured... 

//Determined, passionately conceived, wondering... // 

"Lyrics," he breathed. Lyrics he'd never seen before, lyrics he'd never heard. 

New. They were new, and they were waiting for him. 

//He... left them here?// 

He found himself leaning towards the screen, pushing the office chair away from the desk in order to get better access. Again and again and again he read those lines until he knew he would be able to recite them in his sleep. 

"Shuuichi," he whispered, reaching out as if to touch the words glowing up at him. They were new, they had to be. It was an untitled document, he never used untitled documents. Even in his most frantic writing binges, he always managed to at least _number_ the document he was working in. //He did this, it has to be him...// 

His normally logical, calculating mind was breaking, hairline fractures in his resolve, carved by the loss of his lover. The desperation to _know_ what had happened, why everything before that very moment seemed like a black hole in his memory. 

//But... but these... // 

"You're still here, aren't you," he murmured, his voice rough from lack of use, his tone bordering on accusatory. "You're still here..." 

Yuki Eiri stood alone in the silent darkness as the lyrics blinked, and disappeared. 


	2. 01 ::White Noiz::

**A/N:** Huge, huge huge HUGE thanks to Minuit (who can be found here ==> http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=33626 ) for being my lovely Beta reader. ^-^ Also, thanks to Leigh for her talented problem solving skills when we should've been working. ^_~ 

I suppose that's all that needs to be said for now, other than I don't own Gravitation, but I'm working on that. ^_~ Also, the song used is "In The Moonlight"; the translated lyrics were taken from Animelyrics.com. 

And please, give generously to the Review Foundation. *solemn* 

//...// denotes thought. 

_..._ denotes emphasis. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
**Hitori**   
By Ryu-chan 

**Chapter One: White Noiz**   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Yuki Eiri is a logical, calculating and sometimes cold person. He believes in what he can see, what he can touch, and he prides himself on being able to see through common illusions. He is an atheist, cynical and disbelieving (because, after all, what kind of compassionate, powerful being would allow a sixteen year old to be brutally beaten and raped thousands of miles from home?) and for most of his life, he believed in relying on only himself to survive. 

And while he sold fairy tales, he didn't buy into them. Love was an illusion; lust and pain were reality. 

Shuuichi ruined all of that. With three simple words, the young vocalist was able to deconstruct Eiri's beliefs before his very eyes, picking them apart with the same naïve finesse as a child tearing petals from a flower, leaving Eiri vulnerable and desperate, frightened of what he was now laid bare to, hiding his fear behind harsh words. 

And with that childlike innocence, Shuuichi smiled and soothed away the distress. Told him over and over again how much he loved him, refused to leave when it all came to be too much for Eiri and the novelist panicked, snarling insults at his lover, commands, orders to get lost, telling him that he didn't need some annoying brat hanging around him constantly. 

Yuki Eiri could see through common illusions, unless they were his own. And what he had failed to realize was that Shuuichi was not some specter he could try to disprove, that the boy wasn't a delusion that Eiri could be rid of simply by shaking his head and clearing his thoughts. 

//Not until it was too late...// 

The living room of his spacious apartment was silent as he leaned against the picture window that stretched across one wall. Winter was settling over the neighborhood below, drowning the landscape in dull gray as it gently muted the liveliness of nature. Bare trees stretched their bony, vulnerable arms towards the sky in a silent prayer as the grass withered and died. Every day was overcast, as if the sun were also going into hibernation, leaving everything in what felt like perpetual twilight, and an electric chill hung in the air. The seasons were struggling between fall and winter; too cold and dead to be autumn, but not nearly bitter enough to snow yet. 

Eiri hated it. The indecision, as if nature was caught in limbo, and it annoyed him to no end that it wouldn't simply _snow_. 

With a dissatisfied sigh, Eiri turned away from the glass and looked around the living room, unsure of what he was supposed to do next and lacking the drive to accomplish anything. Distantly, he felt the nicotine's pull. //Too quiet. Too much of a void...// 

Eiri was still having trouble adjusting to life without sound. When sound was there, so was direction, so was guidance and drive. 

When sound was there, so was life. 

But sound hadn't been around for a while, and as Eiri went to the stereo to put in a CD, he couldn't help but feel as if his life was fading to a whisper. Without the //_my_// little baka around to make noise and cause a distraction, Eiri was left to himself. 

Which wouldn't be such a terrible thing if Shuuichi hadn't also taken whatever had been left of Eiri's broken existence with him. There was nothing left to rely on, nor was there anything left to survive for. 

In his most desperate moments, suicide did cross his mind, but each time he chased it away. Killing himself, he decided, simply was _not_ an option. He had attempted such a thing when he was 18 years old, and when he'd failed, he'd never felt so cowardly. 

He smirked to himself as he selected a CD at random and went to the couch, snatching the flimsy pack of menthols from the coffee table as he sat down. 

//You never know who your true friends are//, he thought as he lit a cigarette, //until they've got their fingers down your throat to help you vomit the bottle of painkillers that should've worked.// 

Soon, a vaguely familiar beat began, and Eiri frowned, feeling a slight twinge of panic as the rhythm of synthesized drums gave way to synthesized piano and strings. But no... no, this couldn't be the song he thought it was. //Music sounds the same anyway. Pop musicians can't do anything but steal from each other...// 

_"When an orange-colored moonlit night comes  
I think of you  
As though the chic affectations in my words   
Were someone else's words…"_

Eiri choked, eyes widening as the familiar voice jarred the silence of the room and cut straight through him. For a moment, he was paralyzed with inexplicable fear, a strange, painful sensation accompanying every beat of his heart as the loving voice continued to sing to him. 

_"Even now, (I can remember) the pale light  
That illuminated your silhouette   
As you suddenly glanced up   
At that night's sky…" _

The lit cigarette fell to the floor as Eiri scrambled from the couch, tripping over the coffee table as he made a mad dash to the stereo, desperation gripping him tightly, fear driving his movements. 

_"What is it I'm waiting for, in this room without you --  
It's just the clock's ticking,   
But it resonates in my sleepless heart   
Like the sound of footsteps…" _

Pounding the "stop" button didn't work; the volume wouldn't respond. An anguished, panicked snarl escaped him as the music kept going, kept tearing at him with its bittersweet lyrics. 

_"Even now I'm waiting  
I stop here alone.  
From where do you now see the moon   
We saw together on that d--" _

Eiri ripped the power cord from the wall, abruptly cutting off Shuuichi's voice. Panting harshly, Eiri leaned against the wall, then slumped to the floor, the power cord still gripped tightly in one hand. He couldn't breathe, the beginnings of an anxiety attack creeping throughout him, and he struggled to calm himself, struggled to get a hold on the uncontrollable trembling that suddenly overtook him. His song, the one Shuuichi had written for him... 

"I got rid of those CDs!" he yelled to the empty room, regretting it immediately as the sudden shortness of breath threatened to choke him. 

//Stop it...stop it stop it// he told himself, closing his eyes and trying to relax. //You're overreacting and behaving like a _child_. It's probably one of those burned CDs and you didn't label it. It could've gotten mixed up with one of his.// 

He sat there for a long while, catching his breath as he came up with one logical explanation after another. //The stereo's kinda old, the volume and controls could have screwed up because of a short circuit or something. It's nothing, it's a stupid thing to get worked up over.// 

But... he couldn't help it. There was a good reason why all of Shuuichi's music was packed away. Eiri could barely remember what had happened the day of his lover's death (shock, according to Touma), and having to hear the songs that Shuuichi poured so much of his soul into, music that was almost always influenced by something Eiri either said or did, was just too much for him to handle. 

Gradually, the panic ebbed away, leaving Eiri feeling hollow and detached, not to mention completely drained. Even as the silence settled over him, the lyrics were still whispering in his mind, the sound of his lover's voice fanning the desperation deep inside. The longing to know, truly _know_ what had happened was beginning to weigh heavily on his shoulders. 

The words that he had seen on his computer the night before were just as confounding as the music, and while he knew it was impossible (as well as illogical) to believe that the vocalist was still around, he couldn't help but wonder… 

Was it possible that Shuuichi wasn't _really_ gone? 

//Or is it just because I want it so badly? Is it just... is it just because I feel so alone?// 

"What the _fuck_ is going on?" he murmured to himself, banging his head softly against the wall. "Shuuichi... what's happened to you?" 


	3. 02 ::The Day of Night::

**A/N:** This chapter's dedicated to Minuit, for her superior Beta abilities, and her awesome suggestions. ^-^ Arigatougozaimasu!! Also, huge thanks to all who've reviewed so far. Thank you for taking the time to read and let me know what you think! ^-^ 

As always, Gravitation is *not* mine. ;_; *sniffle* 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
** Hitori **   
By Ryu-chan 

** Chapter Two: The Day of Night **   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Darkness. Complete and utter silence. 

From across the room, the LCD display of the VCR read 3:26 AM. 

Eiri stared blankly at it through hooded eyes. He'd been watching the numbers tick by for the last two hours, registering them distantly in his fatigued mind as his thoughts wandered into oblivion. Stretched on his side on the couch, he faded in and out of consciousness, his body urging him to succumb to sleep. 

But his mind didn't want to. Sleeping on that couch brought back so many memories. He'd sleep on the floor before he'd drift off on that couch. //Resting, just resting...// 

His laptop sat on the coffee table, open but shut down. Work was impossible. He hadn't been able to write anything since Shuuichi's death, his thoughts becoming fragmented and hazy. Working through plot lines, trying to keep his characters together... it just didn't work. Why does the hero long for the out-of-reach heroine? What changes her mind and causes her to run to him? 

What keeps them together? 

But most importantly, why does it even matter? 

That was the path his thoughts inevitably took. There was no point in creating another love story when his own had collapsed around him, crushing his spirit under the terrible burden of the rubble. //No happy endings, and Sleeping Beauty never woke up because Prince Charming was too far away...// 

A dull ache in his shoulders urged him to turn onto his back, but he ignored it. His thoughts seemed to be connected to the green digital beacon across the room, and breaking contact with it would pull him back into the reality he didn't want. Or worse- he'd eventually fall asleep and have to deal with his subconscious. 

Being uncomfortable worked fine for him. 

The numbers on the display shifted silently to 3:27. 

Eiri sighed. 

He really _was_ tired, physically and emotionally, but he wasn't ready to sleep yet. Ever since the stereo incident earlier that day, he'd been unable to quiet the nagging doubts that lingered in his mind. Mutinous thoughts threatened his sanity. Touma had been the one to break the news to Eiri about Shuuichi's death. Touma _knew_. Touma wouldn't lie to him, not about something like this. 

...would he? 

//The lyrics, the music, the feeling that I'm missing out on something... if Shuuichi really _was_ still around, would Touma hide it from me?// 

Eiri scowled. 

//Listen to yourself. Crazy idiot. Shuuichi's gone. No, not just gone. Shuuichi's _dead_.// 

"Dead," he whispered, the word leaving a bitter taste in the back of his throat. 

//Dead. He's dead, and he's not coming back.// 

Eiri turned onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. Dead. The word resounded throughout his thoughts, but carried little meaning. No matter how many times he thought or said it, it just didn't feel _right_. It felt... forced. Fake, almost. As if saying his lover was _dead_ was a mere line from a script he'd been forced to read. It wasn't the right word. 

Death was an end to life, the termination of an existence. Something deep inside of Eiri told him that Shuuichi still existed, as crazy as it made him feel. So if Shuuichi still existed, he couldn't possibly be gone. 

//Lost. He's lost.// 

That felt a little better. 

//He's still here, I know he is. He's just... lost...// 

His thoughts were beginning to fuzz slightly, and he moved his arm from across his face to lie over his chest instead. Staring up at the ceiling, he watched the shadows bend as the trees outside the living room window swayed in a breeze. It was dangerously hypnotic, and he felt his eyelids becoming heavier. 

//No... can't sleep... // 

//But... maybe if I just rest my eyes... // 

//Just for... a little while... // 

Slowly, his eyes slid shut, and he sighed deeply, feeling the tension in his body ebb a little. Yes, this felt nice... maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea after all... 

He sat up with a start. Senses suddenly alert, he held his breath and stared into the darkness in the direction of the kitchen, ears straining. 

A noise. He'd heard a noise coming from that area of the apartment. 

A minute passed. 

The time slipped to 3:31. 

And then he heard it again. 

Footsteps. Soft, padding footsteps coming from the kitchen. 

His breath caught in his throat, and a cold fear washed over him momentarily. He glanced at the laptop on the coffee table, the memory of the previous night and the mysterious lyrics jumping instantly to mind. Seeing that it was still shut off, he looked towards the kitchen once more. 

//It's him, it has to be... // 

//Argh, no! Are you insane?! There's a better chance that it's a cat burglar! Or some obsessed fan stalking you! ...again... // 

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts a little as he stood up. There was only one way to be certain. He would have to go in there and find out. 

As quietly as he could, Eiri crept towards the kitchen, peering into the darkness ahead, half-expecting to see a flash of pink hair. He paused a few feet from the door, listening. The footsteps paused as well. //Must've heard me... // 

"Oi!" Eiri called into the dark room, managing the cold, dangerous tone he was becoming quite well-known for. "Who's there?" 

The footsteps began again, slower now, timid //stalking?//, and they were heading towards him. 

He took a step back, the rational part of his mind telling him that if it _was_ a burglar, he'd better get his ass out of the way unless he _wanted_ to get shot or stabbed or whatever the hell it was burglars did when they were caught. 

Just as the footsteps reached the doorway of the kitchen, they stopped. //Should be able to see whoever's there now... it's not _that_ dark... // 

But there was nothing. Nothing he could see, anyway. He knew someone was there, though, he could _feel_ it, could almost hear what sounded like breathing... 

"Get out," he said, managing to keep his voice steady even as a cold panic was unfurling within the pit of his stomach. This wasn't right, something was wrong with this situation. //Not a burglar... they wouldn't approach me, they'd run the other way or try to run past me... // 

//Just keep a grip on yourself, damn it.// 

"Whoever the hell you are," he growled, his sudden anger at himself helping to douse some of the anxiety, "get the fuck _out_ of my kitchen and _out_ of my apartment." 

The muted grinding of his laptop booting up distracted him, and Eiri whirled around in time to see it glow to life, the screen turned to face him. //The hell?!// Folders opened and flashed on the screen as documents overlapped each other rapidly until a blank one glared at him from across the room. The sudden whiteness was soon interrupted by one word being typed over and over and over again, almost furiously: 

_BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA   
BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA   
BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA_... _

"Jesus," he breathed, eyes going wide in shock. "What the hell--?" 

And then the footsteps were running, something brushing past him as the intruder ran down the hallway that led to the back of the apartment. Broken out of his momentary stupor, Eiri turned and chased after them. "OI! GET BACK HERE!" he called out, not feeling half as brave as he sounded. 

A door opened and slammed, and Eiri caught himself before he ran into it. He grabbed the knob-- 

And jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned. The bedroom. They'd run into the bedroom. 

//What the hell is going on here?!// 

Unwilling now to go in after them, he did the only thing he could think of. Retrieving a chair from the dining room, he wedged it under the doorknob, barricading the intruder into the room. //The police, I need to call the… // 

Unsteadily, he made his way back into the living room, struggling to keep himself calm... and froze. 

The words on the laptop had stopped, cursor blinking idly, but there... bathed in the unnatural light of the computer screen and sitting on the couch as if it were a perfectly normal thing for it to be there, was the stuffed rabbit. 

With a choked yell, Eiri jerked awake and sat up with a start. He was panting, his heart thundering in his chest. Completely disoriented, he looked around the room. The laptop was still off. There was no pink rabbit. 

The VCR told him that it was 3:27. 

Trembling, he closed his eyes, bringing his legs up to hug his knees to his chest. //A dream?// 

"I sincerely _hate_ this couch," he mumbled angrily. 

Once his breathing returned to normal and his heart rate calmed, he stood up. The trembling was still there, but that was to be expected; he knew from experience that it wouldn't pass half as quickly as the other symptoms. He needed to wake up, maybe splash some cold water on his face... 

As he shuffled towards the bathroom, he tried to put the dream out of his mind. //Because that's all it was... // 

//Just a dream.// 

He passed the bedroom, then paused. He blinked, gripping the door frame to the bathroom, suddenly feeling very dizzy. He wanted to laugh at himself and just keep walking, but he couldn't. 

He was afraid to turn around. He was afraid to confirm what he had glimpsed, because if it was still there... 

//Then I really am losing my goddamn mind. // 

But he needed to prove it to himself. What "it" was exactly, he didn't know. Proof that he was insane with grief wasn't nearly as appealing as proof that he had been imagining things. Slowly, he turned. 

"Shit," he hissed, leaning heavily against the door frame and clenching his eyes shut. //No way. No _fucking_ way!// "It was a dream," he growled. //Then explain how the hell _that_ got there!// 

He opened his eyes, praying that it was just a hallucination, that maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. 

A low whimper escaped him. 

The dining room chair was wedged firmly against the bedroom door. 


	4. 03 ::Forest::

**A/N:** It takes longer and longer for me to get these chapters up, and they stay so short. Gomen, but Yuki's been so difficult lately. : P And now it seems that my lovely beta reader is leaving me for college (*sniffle* ;_;). Also, due to some "personal" stuff, I've developed a sort of writer's block. x.x So future chapters may be even _more_ delayed. Huzzahness, ne? x.x 

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, especially Chibiukyou and TalonSage. Where _do_ you get the energy to review so enthusiastically? ^_~ 

Emchan, you think you know what's going on? I'm really interested to hear what you think. Drop me an email or something? ^_~ 

Pyne and Sniffles, I'm deeply flattered that you like it so far! ^-^;; Also Pyne, I'm actually very receptive to criticism. Thank you for your other review. ^_~ 

And now for the standard "I don't own these characters, just their misery" statement. 

And there it went. 

On with the show! ^-^ 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
**Hitori**   
By Ryu-chan 

**Chapter Three: Forest**   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The living room was silent. The gentle afternoon sun cast a peculiar white glow throughout, filtered by a light fog that had settled earlier in the day. 

//Ethereal. Unreal. Like a dream.// 

//But wasn't last night supposed to be a dream too?// 

The cushions of the couch muffled the frustrated sound that escaped him. Stretched out on his stomach, he burrowed his face further into the leather upholstery, wondering why he could no longer catch his lover's scent where the boy had slept so often. 

"So, let me get this straight." 

Eiri jumped as Touma Seguchi's smooth //manipulative// voice cut through the silence. However, he refused to acknowledge further that the older man had even spoken. He knew that tone. //And I'll be damned if I'm ready to put up with it.// 

"You've had an average of two or three hours of sleep this week," Touma continued, his voice coming from the direction of the living room window. "And not even at the same time, mostly just cat naps, ne? You say lyrics have started appearing on your laptop at random and that it can turn itself on and off at will. And someone has been in your apartment as well? Or was that part of the dream that wasn't really a dream?" 

"Are you trying to be funny, Seguchi?" Eiri growled into the cushions. "Because I'm sure as hell not laughing." 

He heard a sigh from the other side of the room. "Eiri-san, look at it rationally. You've been through a rough time, you aren't sleeping, and is it safe to say that you probably haven't left your apartment in a good while?" 

Eiri grumbled unintelligibly. 

"I think this is called 'cabin fever,'" said the older man, the sound of his voice drawing closer as Touma moved from the window to the L-shaped couch. "Staying cooped up inside this place isn't doing you any good." 

"I don't have any reason to go out." 

"You don't have any reason to stay here either," Touma pointed out coolly. 

Eiri scowled. Turning onto his back, the novelist muttered, "I have more of a reason to be here than I do to be out there." 

"And what's that, Eiri-san? Does your ghost want you to stay home?" 

Touma was becoming more irritating by the second. "Since when have you been such a cold, unsympathetic bastard Seguchi?" said Eiri angrily. 

"Unless you're suggesting that Shindou-san is hiding somewhere in this apartment, running some kind of stealth, covert operation in the middle of the night--" 

"That's not what I'm suggesting at all!" Eiri snarled. 

"Then you're saying that he's haunting you. Eiri-san, that sounds even more ridiculous." 

"Seguchi!" Eiri growled as he sat up. 

"It's not my intention to upset you Eiri-san," said Touma before the novelist could start yelling. He offered a placating smile. "I'm just trying to help you." 

"By calling me crazy and pissing me off?!" 

"I didn't say you were crazy," Touma corrected gently. 

"Then what the hell are you trying to tell me?" 

Touma sighed and closed his eyes. Eiri scowled at him, waiting for him to finish dressing up his response. A few moments of silence passed between them before Touma opened his eyes and said, "I'm trying to tell you that you can't keep living like this. Trying to convince yourself that Shindou-san is still alive is, well, _far_ from healthy. Eiri-san, it was so hard to deal with losing you back in New York. You've come close to returning to whom you once were, but falling into a delusion like this seems to have ruined it all." 

"Touma--" 

"Shindou-san is _dead_ Eiri," the Touma interrupted with a concerned look, and Eiri abruptly forgot what he was about to argue. Touma's words struck against something within him that sparked an incredible, emotional pain, and the novelist reached for the cigarettes on the table out of habit as Touma continued. "He's _dead_; you can't keep trying to fool yourself. I know you, Eiri. This isn't like you. It's… frightening." 

Eiri lit his cigarette but kept the lighter out, running his thumb over the well-worn sticker plastered on one side of the Zippo. "Frightening," he echoed. 

"He changed you more than you think he did. More than I had anticipated. If he's managed to skew your perception on reality so much--" 

"Don't you fucking blame this on him," Eiri growled suddenly as he glared coldly at the older man, a look that could silence even the most obnoxious publishing agents. 

Touma, however, simply shook his head and looked down at his hands in his lap. "It's a fairy tale, Eiri-san. I understand how much you cared about him, but that's over now. Your time with Shindou-san is _over_, but you can't let him end _your_ life as well. You have to decide whether or not you'll be following him so quickly. I hope you'll make the right decision, for his sake if not for your own." 

There was a pause, and Eiri stood up, walking over to the window where Touma had been standing earlier. He took a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoothly as he went over what Touma had said. The glass felt cold against his skin as he rested his head against it, and he closed his eyes. There was just so much happening, so many things that didn't add up, and whatever he thought he would accomplish by calling the older man was forgotten. 

//Assurance. You wanted him to explain it to you. Well, he's done it, and your only reaction is to be angry? Why not grateful? Why not _relieved_?// 

"Because it's not that simple," he murmured. 

"Hm?" 

Eiri hadn't even realized he'd spoken, and he shook his head as he opened his eyes once more. Spotting a small crack in the glass of the window, he reached up to trace it idly, wondering what could have hit the window hard enough to split it like that. 

"Eiri-san, have you been taking anything?" 

"What do you mean?" asked Eiri flatly, determining that whatever had caused the crack had come from inside of the apartment, the edges of the split rough beneath his fingers. 

"Tranquilizers, your anxiety pills, anything?" 

Eiri brought the cigarette to his lips, an excuse to delay his response. It didn't make any difference whether he was taking them or not - they were useless anyway - and he was almost positive that if the dosage was raised any more they'd end up killing him. //But would that be such a bad way to go?// 

"They're too strong," he said. "I don't need them." 

"Obviously you do." 

"I could always overdose, Touma," said Eiri, turning to flash the older man a wry smile. "Would that make you feel better?" 

"I'm not worried about that," Touma replied coolly. "You're being overdramatic, Eiri-san. It was a simple question." 

"It's never a simple question when it comes to you," said Eiri with a laugh devoid of humor. "You already know the answers. _You_ only ask questions when you're trying to trap someone." 

"Now you're just being paranoid." 

"Am I, Seguchi?" Eiri exhaled a smoky breath. "I thought I was just being a pretentious asshole. Paranoia implies I have something to fear, and unlike every one else that you choose to bully, I'm not scared of you." 

Touma's eyes narrowed. "When did I become your enemy, Eiri-san?" 

Eiri met the other man's gaze and held it steadily, resisting the urge to chew on the filter of the cigarette that dangled from his lips, a nervous habit that he'd had longer than he could remember. //Calm down. You called him for help. Attacking him like this isn't going to get anything accomplished, and you _know_ that all of this is hard to believe.// 

//But why doesn't he offer anything else?// 

"Tell me what happened," said Eiri in a low voice, the hard glint in his eyes softening a little. 

Touma appeared confused. "What?" 

"God _damn_ it Seguchi, don't play games with me," Eiri hissed. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!" 

Touma frowned and looked away. "You know I can't. The doctors said you would remember when you were ready. Forcing yourself will only make things worse than they obviously already are." 

"Then you're making yourself my enemy. It's your choice." When Touma didn't reply, Eiri went back to looking out upon the fog. 

A deep silence settled across the room, interrupted every now and then by the crackling of burning cigarette paper, followed by a soft exhalation of smoke. A serene setting - one man at the window, the other reclining on the couch, the dying sunlight softened further by the hazy white that had enveloped the world outside. In any other situation, it could've been quite tranquil, but here and now, both men had something to lose, and tranquility would not come quite so easily. 

"There was nothing you could have done." 

The softness of Touma's voice was almost unsettling, the note of sadness in it foreign. It pulled at Eiri painfully. 

"Why?" the novelist murmured. 

"It happened so quickly. There wasn't anything _anyone_ could have done for him." 

Eiri closed his eyes, the pain sharpening in his chest. //I wanted this… // "Was I there?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. 

"I'm sorry Eiri-san. I can't say anymore." 

//Of course not.// 

"Just… tell me. Tell me he wasn't alone. Tell me someone was there for him." 

A pause. "No. No, he wasn't alone." 

"You hesitated." 

"He wasn't alone, Eiri-san. Please, I can't--" 

"Just tell me one more thing." 

A small sigh. "What?" 

"He… " Eiri swallowed and turned to face Touma, unwilling to risk the chance that the other man might lie to him. "He didn't suffer… did he?" 

Touma gave a soft, sad smile and shook his head. "No." 

"Good." 

"Forgive me, Eiri-san. I'd tell you more, but…" 

"Yeah. I know." 

Touma frowned. "Let me make it up to you somehow." 

Eiri laughed softly, his earlier irritation with his brother-in-law dulled by the sudden morsel of reality that had been thrown to him. "How?" 

"Let me keep you company tonight. I'll make dinner, and we can just… talk. Maybe something will happen again and maybe I'll see it. Maybe you'll remember something." 

"Touma…" 

"Please, Eiri-san." 

The novelist considered it for a moment, wondering if Touma had any ulterior motives to his request. //If he does, then you can always turn them around onto him. Quid pro quo, trade him for information.// 

The mere connotations of the thought made him feel a little uneasy. 

//Or you could just trust him and let him stay for tonight. What's the harm?// 

"All right," he said at last. "All right. You can stay." 

//What's the harm…?// 


	5. 04 ::Overdose Delusion::

**A/N:** Once again, Gravitation is not mine. ~_~ Also, the formatting on this may be a little off. I usually edit these in Notepad, but Word is infinitely quicker. Even if there are one too many spaces. ~_~ 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
**Hitori **  
By Ryu-chan 

****

Chapter Four: Overdose Delusion   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Dinner came and went without incident. 

Stretched out on the couch, Eiri stared sleepily up at the ceiling as he listened to the sounds of Touma cleaning up in the kitchen. He couldn't think of the last time that he'd had a full meal, and the Italian pasta and wine Touma had served left him feeling tired and strangely content. 

And for once, there was noise in the apartment. //Noise that I can explain, anyway.// It had been so long since he could simply lie there and hear life in the next room without thinking that he was going insane. It had been so long since he wasn't alone in that apartment, since he could feel sleepy without being afraid. //It could all be in my head. Maybe it's all some trick my mind has been playing on me, some kind of punishment I'm putting myself through for shutting everyone out.// 

Well, he wasn't alone now, so what was the harm in relaxing a little? 

Eiri closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Yes, this felt nice... 

__

There was nothing you could have done. 

He frowned slightly. The conversation from earlier had been whispering in the back of his mind through dinner, but he had chosen to ignore it, deciding to take what Touma had said at face value. He would try to accept the situation for what it was, at least until he had proof that would tell him otherwise.

__

There wasn't anything _anyone_ could have done for him. 

But it was tugging at him now, nudging the darkened corners of his memory as if insisting that there was something more. 

__

He wasn't alone, Eiri-san. 

Why didn't that sound right? Why did it sound as if Touma was saddened by the fact that Shuuichi hadn't died alone? 

//Did he hate Shuuichi that much?// 

__

He didn't suffer... did he? 

No... 

Eiri sighed again. It seemed that instead of really answering anything, the conversation had merely brought up _more_ questions, _more_ reasons for him to ask "why?". There had been pauses that seemed too long, changes in Touma's voice that were suspiciously out of character. Then again, he could always be misinterpreting things. 

//It's all speculation anyway. Other than what he's told me, I have no idea what really happened.// 

Touma could be secretive at times, but in this case Eiri believed that the older man was telling the truth. Not because he trusted Touma's integrity... //But because you _want_ to believe him.// 

Eiri turned onto his side, turning his thoughts to what had been said at dinner. Conversation had been shallow, and Touma had managed to skillfully steer them away from any discussion of Shuuichi every time it seemed that they were getting too close. While Touma was a master at manipulating conversation, Eiri was just as good at getting what he wanted from him. When he had the strength, anyway. //Too tired to fight,so I let him win.// However, when the silent lull between them had been too much, Eiri asked about Mika. As soon as he said his sister's name, something about Touma's demeanor changed visibly. 

"I haven't seen her since before all of this," Eiri had said as he idly swirled the red wine in his glass. "How is she?" 

"She was called away on business not too long ago," Touma had replied. Something in his voice hinted that he was uncertain about his answer, and for a moment Eiri had wondered if he'd caught the other man off-guard. "I talked to her recently. She said that she wouldn't be back until the end of this month, but she sends her love." Touma avoided Eiri's questioning look, averting his gaze to the plate in front of him. He laughed. "How forgetful of me. I could have sworn that I had told you." 

Eiri's head hurt. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. It seemed that Touma was hiding something about Mika as well, but before Eiri could pursue it further, Touma had managed to change the topic yet again. 

//This all has to make sense sooner or later. He can't keep covering his tracks forever.//

//And _you_ can't keep expecting things to work out on their own when they obviously haven't yet.// 

He considered getting up and going into the bedroom to dig out the shoebox beneath his bed. However, he dismissed the idea almost immediately. As desperate as he was to find the answers, he wasn't sure if he was ready enough for _that_. There was a tension within him that kept him away from the room that he had shared with Shuuichi for so long, a certain fear that wouldn't let him get any farther than the doorway before he was overwhelmed by emotions. 

He turned onto his stomach, cushioning his head with his arms. The couch wasn't _that_ uncomfortable anyway. He'd slept there before with Shuuichi when the boy had been stubborn and refused to come to bed with the novelist. It was a rare occasion, usually after one of their arguments. If Shuuichi wouldn't come to him, then Eiri would go to Shuuichi. //That's what happened last time, anyway.// 

Eiri started. 

Last time. 

He could remember last time. 

//Almost. Just barely... // 

Eiri buried his face in the cushions. //Think. Think _hard_.// 

Obviously there had been an argument, but what had it been about? He ran through a quick list of some of their most common fights. Money matters? Too much noise? Neglect? 

Slowly, the scene came together. Eiri could almost see Shuuichi pouting on the couch, curled up on his side with a pillow hugged against his chest. He was pretending to be asleep, ignoring whatever Eiri was saying to get the boy to come to bed. //I was frustrated with him// he remembered suddenly. //I... I gave up after a while and told him to stay there. That I didn't care what he did because he was a spoiled brat anyway... // 

Turning onto his back once more, Eiri threw his arm over his eyes and clenched his jaw. Fatigue was beginning to press upon his memory, blurring the image a bit. //I was yelling at him and... then what?// 

It seemed that he was almost always yelling at Shuuichi, but something different had come from this particular argument. //What was different? What was it even _about_?// 

He was running up against a wall, and he went through his options again. How did Shuuichi usually react when they fought? 

//He... started crying? Yelled back... ?// 

//No. No, he was quiet. He didn't say anything until I had turned to leave the living room.// 

He winced suddenly, a sharp pain reminding him of his earlier headache. 

//I was leaving and he... said my name. He was... afraid?// 

Another sharp pain, and Eiri groaned. The headache was getting worse, but he couldn't risk breaking this spell, couldn't risk losing this thin thread that was holding him to his memories. 

//Afraid of what?// 

__

What is it? 

I... I'm scared. 

Voices. He could hear it now, and a burst of adrenaline ran through him. Closer, he was getting closer. 

Images danced before him. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on the boy's shoulder, who was lying where Eiri was now. //Why? Why was he scared?// 

He was kissing him, could almost feel Shuuichi's lips against his own as he pulled the vocalist closely to him. 

__

Baka. Don't you trust me? 

It didn't match. The words and voices in his head weren't matching the scene. 

"Yuki," the boy on the couch was whispering. 

__

Yuki... 

Confused, Eiri turned his head to the side, trying to clear the fog settling over his mind. It was almost like a memory superimposed over a memory. Wires were crossing; two separate conversations were happening at once. He watched as Shuuichi pressed him onto his back, kissing tenderly at the novelist's neck. "Yuki." His voice was breathy, needy, but the other... 

__

Yuki. 

It was pleading, a note of fear marring his tone. 

He could remember the way soft strands of Shuuichi's hair tickled the side of his face as the vocalist leaned down to murmur in his lover's ear. 

__

Yuki... ! 

Anxiety twisted desperately in his stomach. A dull throb was echoing in the back of his head, and he suddenly felt frightened. //What is this? What's happening?// 

There was a soft touch on his hand, although he couldn't be sure if it was part of the memory or truly there, couldn't risk opening his eyes to find out. 

__

Stop... ! 

"Please," Shuuichi moaned.

Another light touch, something warm spreading over his hand, tickling, itching. 

The memory played on in broken flashes of picture and sound. He could hear Shuuichi's whispers, could feel the boy's slender fingers undoing the buttons on Eiri's shirt, and he moaned, the headache edging towards a migraine. 

__

I'm scared... 

"Yuki... " 

__

Don't you trust me? 

It was all bleeding together, the voices and imagery coming too quickly, repeating themselves and becoming a discordant combination of sound and time. //Stop... stop it, that's enough!// 

__

Yuki, stop! 

//Shuuichi...// 

__

YUKI! 

A piercing scream ripped Eiri from his nightmare, jerking him awake. A third touch splattered against his hand, and he glanced down.

He nearly choked. 

Blood. There was blood on his hand, blood dripping from... 

He looked up and came face to face with a grinning Yuki Kitazawa. Blood was trickling in a steady stream down the right side of his once-handsome face, and bits of crimson gore matted his hair down. The dead man's brown eyes glinted maliciously, and Eiri's scream died in his throat as Kitazawa lifted a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. Eyes wide in terror, Eiri could do nothing more than stare as his former mentor reached out to him, and as much as he wanted to pull away, it seemed as though he was paralyzed. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears flooded his senses as Kitazawa brushed chilling fingertips against Eiri's cheek, and it _hurt_, freezing splinters of almostpain crackling through him. Kitazawa's lips moved in words that Eiri couldn't understand, and distantly, Shuuichi was screaming for him, screaming his name, pleading, desperate— 

Strong hands suddenly gripped Eiri by the shoulders and the novelist clenched his eyes shut, trying to tear away, thrashing and yelling to let go, get away, get away--!! 

"EIRI!" 

Touma's frantic, panicked voice broke through, and Eiri opened his eyes to see the older man holding onto him tightly, looking down at him with an expression of absolute horror. Panting, Eiri pulled away from him and sat up, scanning the living room for any sign of his mentor, then began to obsessively inspect his hands for the blood that had been there only moments ago, wringing them almost painfully. 

Touma pushed Eiri's hair out of his eyes, resting his hand against the younger man's clammy forehead worriedly. "Eiri-san, are you all right?" 

Eiri shook his head and slapped Touma's hand away. "Don't-- don't touch me, I can't... I can't breathe..." 

"Calm down," Touma soothed, taking one of Eiri's trembling hands into his own, but the novelist yanked it away immediately. 

"I said don't touch me!" he growled, raking his fingers through his hair and curling his hand into a fist at the back of his head. Trembling almost violently, Eiri dug through his pockets, snarling to himself when he couldn't find his cigarettes. Glancing past a somewhat confused Touma, Eiri found them laying on the coffee table and snatched them up- only to throw the empty pack to the floor with a curse. 

Touma laid a gentle hand on the novelist's shoulder. "Eiri--" 

"I can't do this anymore," Eiri mumbled as he pulled away from Touma again and got up from the couch. 

"Where are you going?" Touma asked, following close behind as the novelist stalked down the hall to the front door. 

"Out," Eiri muttered as he pulled his jacket off the hook by the door and slipped his shoes on. "I have to get out of here." 

Touma made no argument or move to stop him as Eiri stepped out into the stale air of the apartment building, leaving home for the first time in three weeks. For a moment, he simply stood there alone in the hall, wondering why everything felt so... _different._ He looked down at his hands //still clean// and at the car keys clutched in one fist. He had nowhere to go. What was the chance that all of the places that used to bring him solace could do so once his entire world had been pulled out from under him? What if, instead of peace, he found even more grief? 

//It doesn't matter now. Nothing matters now except getting out of here.// 

With that single thought, Eiri made his way to the parking garage. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

**A/N:** Gomen minna, I didn't mean for this to take so long. @_@ I absolutely _hate_ this chapter. Poor Minuit, the amount of beta-ing required on this thing… sheesh. 

Anyway, sorry for delay. Chapter Five probably won't be coming out any time soon either, so I hope this was enjoyable for the most part. ^-^;;


	6. 05 ::Fermata in Mystic Air::

**Disclaimer:** Gravitation is: 

(A) Not mine.   
(B) Not mine.   
(C) Not mine.   
(D) All of the above. 

**A/N:** The following is dedicated to chibiukyou, who positively detests surprises and cliffhangers. ^_~ And who also kept me company on those nights when all I could do was write and rant. Luff ya much darling! *glomp!* 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
**Hitori**   
By Katsumi 

**Chapter Five: Fermata in Mystic Air **   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

_ "Yuki." _

Eiri didn't bother to look up from the second draft of the manuscript he was reading as the small voice called his name from the other side of the room. "Hn?" 

He heard the soft sound of bare feet padding across the hard wood floor, and a weight dropped onto the couch beside him. Shuuichi leaned against Eiri's shoulder and whimpered, "I don't feel good." 

"I know this already," replied Eiri as he marked out a few sentences in red pen, re-read the paragraph, then cut it out entirely. Shuuichi whimpered again and turned to nuzzle his face against Eiri's arm. 

"Yuki..." 

Eiri sighed, mildly irritated to have his concentration broken by someone who shouldn't even be conscious. "What are you doing out of bed, baka? You aren't going to get better if you stay awake." //And I'm not going to get any work done if you keep laying on me like that.// 

Shuuichi sniffed. "I had a bad dream and woke up, but you weren't there. I wanted to be next to Yuki." He coughed, then buried his face against Eiri's shoulder. "I feel like I'm dying..." 

"You aren't dying." //Redundant dialogue, strike. Period here, make this a new sentence...// "You have a cold, and if you don't stop rubbing on me I'll get sick as well and then we'll _both_ be miserable." 

Shuuichi looked up at Eiri and pouted. "You're so mean. How do you know it's just a cold? What if I really _am_ dying, Yuki? I could be dying right now, but all you care about is..." He squinted at the papers in Eiri's hands, vision still blurry from just waking up and from the cold medicine that he had taken earlier. "Whatever that is. And then when I die and you have to go my funeral you'll say 'Oh why didn't I listen to him?'" Shuuichi made a dramatic gesture and threw himself into Eiri's lap, causing the novelist to cry out angrily as the boy landed on the manuscript. 

"Baka, get off!" he yelled, trying to either pry the papers out from under his sick lover or shove him onto the floor. Shuuichi heaved a sigh and lifted himself enough to allow the manuscript to be saved. 

"'Baka, get off', are those going to be your last words to me?" Shuuichi frowned. "That's not very romantic." 

Eiri could only glare at Shuuichi, unsure if he should be amused or annoyed by the vocalist's behavior. "Little idiot," he said at last, setting the manuscript and pen onto the couch beside him. 

Shuuichi winced. "My head hurts. I think I have a brain tumor." 

Eiri rolled his eyes. "Do you even _have_ a central nervous system?" 

"Yuki!" Shuuichi stuck out his lower lip. "I'm sick and you're still making fun of me!" 

"Feh," was the author's response. Again, he tried to shift the boy off of him. "Move it, Drama Queen. I need to get my cigarettes." 

"Maybe I have cancer!" Shuuichi rolled into Eiri, burying his face in the novelist's stomach and hugging him tightly around the waist. "Second-hand smoke!" 

"Move, damn it!" 

"No!" Shuuichi wailed, voice only slightly muffled. "I don't wanna die, Yuki!" 

Eiri sighed again and gave up. He wasn't in the mood to deal with this. That manuscript needed to be redone before Saturday; it was already Thursday, and he had a hysterical pink brat clinging to him as if his life depended on it. The only way he would get _anything_ done would be to pander to the boy's craving for attention until the drugs knocked him out again and he would be able to continue his work in peace. Resting a hand on his lover's head, he repeated, "You _aren't_ dying." 

Shuuichi turned his head to look up at Eiri, eyes wide and teary in an expression of pure, childlike fear. //My God, he doesn't really believe this, does he?// "How do you know?" he sniffled. 

Eiri smirked down at him, running his fingers through the boy's hair, scritching lightly as if stroking a cat. "Trust me, baka." 

Shuuichi's eyes drooped shut at the pleasurable ministrations as he relaxed into it. "Promise?" he mumbled. 

"Go back to sleep." 

"Hnn..." It was little more than a purr, and Eiri couldn't help but grin slightly. //Damn it, he won again...// Still stroking his lover's hair, Eiri looked forlornly at the manuscript sitting beside him, then shook his head. Oh well, what was another deadline to him anyway? He'd get it done when he got it done; that's what Express Mail was for. Besides, he'd missed deadlines by weeks at a time before. Making everyone wait only put him in more control and made his readers all the more ravenous by the time the novel in question was finally released. //Starve them of what they crave, and they'll always beg for more...// 

"Yuki..." 

Eiri looked down at his lover, who seemed to be mumbling in his sleep. "Hn?" 

Shuuichi snuggled closer to the blonde, his words slurred and a bit muffled. "I need to ask you something..." 

~*~ 

It had begun to snow. 

The park was deserted. The moon spilled its silvery light graciously over the lone figure sitting on the park bench, a half-finished cigarette dangling between his fingers as he stared up at the gently descending flakes that caressed his face. Cold. But not cold enough. The trench coat Eiri wore was wrapped tightly around him, and briefly he considered taking it off, to revel in the numbing winter air, as if that in itself would validate his entire existence, which seemed to come down to that one moment in the empty park. 

Alone. Just as he had been for the last three and a half weeks. Only... he had never felt quite as isolated, cut off from the rest of the world as he did right then. In his apartment, he had pieces of himself, fragments of his illusive lover. In his apartment, Touma would visit him and cook for him, try to talk to him and console him. //Though I haven't needed consoling until now.// 

The thought was bittersweet and for a brief moment, he felt a flash of guilt. //I haven't needed consoling until Shu--… until _he_ reminded me...// 

An excuse, or a romantic notion further inspired by the delirium he felt settling over him, just as the snow settled across the ground. He couldn't tell which it was, and he didn't care to discern between them. //I'm going crazy... certainly that must count for more than a few tears.// 

Justification eased whatever pain alcohol and nicotine and sex could not. It was a drug in its own right that no one had ever tried to take away from him. Finding reasons and excuses had become his forte. And if ever he couldn't come up with an answer, he would ignore the question entirely, deciding immediately that if there was no explanation, then it wasn't worth his time to worry about it. Something wasn't what it was simply because it _was_, but it wasn't up to him to find out why if he couldn't figure it out right away. 

//That changed though, didn't it.// He took a long, deep drag from the cigarette and exhaled ghostly fingers of smoke into the night sky. //_He_ changed all of that. He didn't have an explanation, and he wouldn't let you ignore his questions. It didn't mean a thing that you couldn't come up with the answer at a glance, did it?// 

Though Eiri hated to admit it, the truth was that the boy had always perplexed him, and it frustrated the novelist to no end. How could someone act with such a selfless motive? How could he pursue Eiri so relentlessly, driven only by the need to have him near? Eiri had tried to brush him off with the conclusion that Shuuichi was lying, that the boy was much cleverer than he looked. Shuuichi had quickly proven otherwise, leaving Eiri with no excuse for his lover's actions other than the obvious: that Shuuichi truly meant what he was saying. And that confused the novelist even more than it had to start with. 

However, there were nights when it left him with a sense of purpose, as if Shuuichi were a puzzle that had crawled into his lap, pleading to be deciphered as he nuzzled closer to the man that brought him such bittersweet heartache, such euphoric satisfaction. A puzzle in himself... or maybe a piece that completed another? A mystery within a mystery. Sometimes when Shuuichi was on the couch, nestled in Eiri's lap, head resting against Eiri's chest as he drifted off, the novelist couldn't help but lean back and absorb the boy into his senses, as if that could help solve all of the puzzles, end all of the games. The way his hair felt with his head tucked under Eiri's chin, the scent of his shampoo as delicate as the bones in the vocalists hands. Eiri would entwine his fingers with Shuuichi's, idly stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. Shuuichi had beautiful hands. Soft and gentle and small. Perfect. 

Something slipped then, a single thread of control snapping like a bowstring, and Eiri closed his eyes, swallowing hard as his chest tightened almost painfully. Finishing his cigarette, he let it fall into the snow, listening to the hiss of the extinguished flame as he let out a shaky, smoky breath and tried to overcome the coppery taste of grief in the back of his throat. 

Eiri leaned forward, threading his fingers through his hair, holding his head up as he rested his elbows on his knees. His head ached, and he held his breath. The air felt as though it had become thicker as unshed tears began to choke him, and he wished that it wasn't so quiet, wished desperately for something to distract him from this sudden pain that threatened to tear him apart. 

It continued to snow in his dark, silent world. 

He clenched his jaw and tried to breathe normally. A small sound escaped him, and he felt ashamed for it. //But no one's here. No one can see you now.// 

//...no one can soothe this ache. No one can tell you it will be all right because it _won't_ be all right. You're losing your _fucking mind_ and there's nothing you can do about it.// 

An image of Yuki Kitazawa grinning at him, whispering to him just like he had done all those years ago, flashed before Eiri's eyes, and the ache in his chest worsened. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell and hit and _break_ something... he wanted to cry and get it over with. But more than anything, he wanted to sink into a warm embrace and leave everything behind. 

All of this was held beyond his reach, and so he was left with a sharp longing in his tired soul. 

//Never again... I'll never be able to hold him like that again... never hear him calling for me when he comes home from work and he knows perfectly well where I am... never be able to kiss him and hear him tell me how much he loves me...// The most maudlin of memories, but he couldn't fight them. He bit his lip hard, overwhelmed by the unexpected sentimentality. He could never have those moments again. All that he was left with now was the ghost of a haunted mind. 

Shuuichi's screams from the nightmare earlier came back to him, and no matter how hard he bit his lip, it couldn't stop the few tears that ran down his face before falling to the snowy ground. He knew what those screams meant, and no matter how much he wanted to deny it, no matter how many excuses he wanted to come up with, the truth was... 

//I was there. I was there, and I... 

I...// 

"I let you die," he said softly, his voice strained. "Didn't I, Shuuichi... I let you die." 

Silence. Not even an echo in response. 

//What have I done to you? What have I seen? 

Why couldn't I make the screaming stop...?// 

"I'm sorry." Barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry..." 

//For what I did to you, for what I didn't do to help you, for whatever it is that keeps you around me even in death.// 

A soft breeze blew, sending a chill through him as he struggled to calm himself, his sensible side whispering that crying over it wouldn't solve anything, that getting emotional would only hinder him in figuring _anything_ out. 

He wiped away the tears that had slipped, evening his breathing out until the ache in his chest gradually gave way. Eventually his headache subsided as well, and he was left feeling just as ragged as before, if not more so. 

However, the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach refused to go away quite so easily, and thus sitting up just yet was not an option to be considered. Somewhere in that tiny moment when it had been too much to bear, the loneliness had given way to a peculiar fear that he found he couldn't quite explain. Suddenly he didn't want to be alone, not there, out in the silvery park where the air was too heavy and crisp and _muted_. It wasn't a question of companionship, it was a sense of... 

What? What was it? 

//Danger. I don't feel safe here anymore...// He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, suppressing a shiver borne from the chilly flakes settling on the back of his neck. The exhaustion he had felt earlier was chased away by the bitter winter night, leaving him feeling more worn out than tired, a kind of restless fatigue that was growing incredibly uncomfortable with the added anxiety. Wearily, he dropped his sight to the ground once more… and that's when he saw it. 

The tiny splash of color in the purity at his feet didn't quite register with him at first. A spot in his vision perhaps, a momentary hallucination (and why not? It had been happening enough lately), but certainly not what he thought it was. 

Squinting a bit, Eiri peered down at the spot of red poking through the carpet of snow. It... it almost looked like... 

Curious, he reached down to brush away the snow that partially covered the little anomaly, and velvet petals kissed his fingertips. He jerked slightly, drawing his hand back as if the flower might bite him. He regarded it carefully, still in disbelief. 

//A wild rose... in the middle of winter...// 

No. Way. 

He blinked and reached towards it once more, awed that such a thing could be in full bloom despite the season. As soon as he touched the blossom though, he tensed, the same familiar fear that he experienced in front of the bedroom door washing through him. He smirked bitterly to himself. 

//I live in fear.// 

He closed his eyes, wrapping his fingers around the stem, dipping into the cold snow. 

//Starting now...// 

Taking a deep breath, he forced back the urge to pull away, and tugged at the rose. 

//I'm going to put an end to this.// 

The stem broke with a muffled _snap_-- 

And he cried out, dropping the severed flower with a curse as a thorn dug into his finger. The bitter taste of blood assaulted his senses as he brought the injured digit to his lips, and he glared at the rose lying blamelessly in the snow. Forget it. He wasn't staying there any longer. Fight-or-flight instinct taking over, Eiri stood from the bench, not even bothering to spare a last glance at the rose before he stalked back to his car. 

//Fuck this.// he thought angrily. Ghosts and roses and song lyrics that weren't his. //Just _fuck this_.// 

Another breeze swept past, stirring the tops of the trees as he walked beneath them, and he shivered. Whispers. They sounded almost like- 

//Stop it. This is getting old. Knock it off already.// 

But no matter what he told himself, the tension within him would not ease. He was nervous, the kind of anxiety one feels when they're walking alone at night, and the hushed voices of the leaves… 

He paused, and looked up at the bare branches of the trees. 

Eiri shook his head, taking a deep breath and continuing down the jogging path to where he'd parked. This was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. //You aren't eight years old anymore, for chrissake. Get a hold on yourself.// He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking, trying to push away the paranoid feeling that he was being watched. The familiar weight of the cell phone in his right pocket brought him a little comfort. Despite the fact that he rarely answered the phone at home, he kept his cell with him wherever he went for emergencies. The only people who had his cell number were Touma, Mika, Tatsuha, and a select handful of others, so if it ever rang, he already knew who it was. 

Now it brought him a sense of security, however small. After a moment of toying with the idea, Eiri withdrew the phone from his pocket and flipped it open as he walked, dialing a number and waiting for the person on the other end to answer. 

One ring. Two rings. Three rings //I know you're there// and he quickened his pace a little until-- 

"Hello?" 

//Thank God...// "Why are you answering my phone?" It came out as annoyed, exasperated, just how he hoped it would. 

He could almost hear the small smile that was undoubtedly on Touma's lips. "I knew you would be calling, Eiri-san." 

"Waiting for me?" 

"I might as well. You've been alone for so long." 

"Maybe I like it that way." 

"Oh? Then why are you calling?" 

Eiri frowned. //Touché.// 

"Where are you?" 

"You already know." 

"When will you be home?" 

"When I feel like it." Eiri inspected his hand as he walked. The bleeding had stopped. "When are you leaving?" 

"As soon as I know you're safe." 

"I'm not a child." 

"I know." 

Pause. 

"Eiri." 

"Hn?" 

"Tell me... what happened tonight?" 

He knew this had been coming, but dodged the question anyway. "Claustrophobic. I couldn't stand it in there anymore." 

"That's funny. You looked like you had seen a ghost." 

Eiri hesitated slightly at the strange note in Touma's voice, but dismissed it. "Was just a nightmare." 

"I hope there wasn't something wrong with the food..." 

"Nerves." 

"I see." 

Another pause. Eiri had never felt so pressed for conversation in his life. There really wasn't anything he wanted to say to the older man, but he couldn't handle this isolation. He needed a living voice to be with him, at least until he was in his car... 

"Eiri-san, do you remember what happened once we returned home from New York?" 

//What... ?// 

"You locked yourself in your room for nearly a month," Touma continued, "and refused to come out or talk to anyone." 

Eiri frowned. Of course he remembered. How could he forget? "What about it?" 

"Don't," said Touma sharply. "Don't do it again." 

"I'm not." 

"You are." 

He came to a stop in the middle of the path, the snow continuing its graceful descent all around him. "Seguchi," he started, but found that he had nothing to say. 

"Eiri-san." 

He closed his eyes, the other man's tone reminding him that he couldn't hide much from Touma. "I can't help it," Eiri said softly. 

"Why not?" Touma's voice was an inquiring purr. 

//You aren't my fucking therapist...// "Because there's nothing you can say or do to help me." His words were harsher than he had meant them to be, his tone bitter and angry, yet dangerously quiet. His frustration was getting the better of him, but he did nothing to stop it as he continued, "Just like after New York." 

The full effect of his words came back to him through the whispering silence of the cell phone at his ear. Up ahead, he could see his car parked under a flickering streetlamp in the empty lot. 

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Eiri-san," said Touma at last, tone bearing none of the ice Eiri had been expecting to hear, and the novelist shook his head. 

"It was a lost cause," Eiri amended. 

"How can you say that?" 

"Because it's true." 

"Self-pity won't solve anything." 

"Obviously." 

He dug into his other coat pocket, searching for his keys. 

"It's snowing," Touma remarked. 

"Hn." 

"Please be careful, Eiri-san. The roads must be slick by now." 

Eiri smirked. "I've driven in worse conditions, and it hasn't killed me yet." 

"Is it nice out there?" 

"It's disturbing." 

"Oh? I'd imagine it would be quite lovely at night." 

"It's too quiet." 

"Is the moon full?" 

"No." 

"That's too bad." 

"If you say... so..." 

He trailed off, coming to a stop mere feet from the car. His eyes fixed on the scene before him and a chill overcame him unlike anything he'd ever experienced. //No... no way...// 

"Eiri-san?" 

"Se... Seguchi..." He couldn't breathe; there was a tremendous pressure against his chest that he couldn't explain, couldn't expel. 

"Are you all right?" 

He choked, unable to form words, and he closed his eyes, dizzy, disoriented, an image burning in his mind, softly settling in reality before him. He felt his knees buckle and barely had time to catch himself before he hit the ground, gasping for air. 

"He-... help..." 

The phone fell from his grasp, a voice calling to him from somewhere far away, and darkness swallowed him whole. 

~*~ 

_A shriek, inhuman, unearthly, jarring him to his very bones. Starbursts of color, white black red pain-- _

"YUKI!" 

Mind-numbing terror, red, so much red //Oh God... oh Jesus _Christ_// and it was everywhere. 

Roses, wild roses, blossoming so fast, so close, petals warm and inviting and //so goddamned beautiful...// wilting as they spread. 

A sob. Choked. Pleading. 

"Trust me." 

"Yuki..." 

CRUNCH. Sickening. Nausea. 

White. 

Cold. 

...silence... 

~*~ 

"Eiri-san? Eiri... are you still there? Is everything all right?... Eiri! Answer me!" 

The tiny voice lay forgotten in the snow, as gentle flakes caressed the crumpled, motionless form of Yuki Eiri. 


	7. 06 ::Ashes and Ghost::

**A/N:** As Douglas Adams once said: "I love the sound of deadlines, that _whooshing_ noise as they fly right by". I'm paraphrasing here, but it's basically the same idea. People, I try to stick to my own deadlines, but there's almost always going to be an unseen variable that gets in the way, so please, bear with me. =_= Hitori is now drawing to it's close, and I hope you'll all stick around to the end. I'm hoping to have this completed before August; something about having a fanfiction this long (or short, depending on your point of view) running for a year or more just makes me feel... uncomfortable. Luckily, there's only a few chapters left, so please hang in there. ^^ 

Also, I do appreciate your emails and reviews. I like to know that people are enjoying Hitori, which is really almost the only thing keeping this thing going. 

Michelle - I received your email, but when I tried to reply, I kept getting an error. 

I've rambled enough. I suppose all that's left is to say "Please let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy Chapter 6 of Hitori: The Fic That Never Should Have Been". ^_~ 

** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
Hitori **   
By Katsumi 

** Chapter Six: Ashes and Ghost   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ **

The first thing Eiri registered was the trickling sound of water running somewhere nearby. Next was the aching cold that enveloped him, and something incredibly uncomfortable was digging into his left hip. He shifted a bit as he wearily opened his eyes. 

Strobes of light flashed weakly, reflecting off the lake of water all around him, and then it was dark once more. An electric hum filled his head, crackling and snapping with the delayed flashes. Groaning, he pushed himself up to his knees slowly, his limbs feeling weak and sore, as if he'd been asleep for far too long. He found that he was lying upon a door and that the brass knob had been what was prodding him. He was in a narrow hallway. Farther down, a fluorescent light flickered dimly, and he was able to take in a few more details of his surroundings. 

It was an old apartment complex. Graffiti and dark stains covered the peeling, plaster walls, and piles of debris were stacked along the baseboards. 

Anxiety crept up on him and he tried to remain calm. He knew exactly where he was. 

//This is a dream// he told himself as he fought to keep his breathing steady. 

The air thrummed and crackled around him. 

He wanted a cigarette. He wanted to curl up on the door again and fall back asleep. 

But deep down, he knew that wouldn't help. 

Carefully, Eiri pulled himself the rest of the way up, waiting for the initial light-headedness to pass before he stepped off of the door. _Splish_. The small sound of his shoes in the water seemed far too loud. 

The flickering light made him dizzy, so he stayed close to the right wall as he walked slowly down the hallway. Tentatively, he put his hand against it to keep himself steady, then gasped, jerking back quickly as he felt something cold and wet under his palm. 

There was no color reflected from the light, and he could tell that it was only water. It seemed to be flowing from where the wall met the ceiling. He pressed his palm to the wall once more, feeling the cool liquid flow over his skin. It felt so real. 

As he continued down the hallway, he noticed that various doors with broken or missing numbers were either boarded up or barricaded by trash. Boxes, bed frames, and boards. He would try the knobs of these doors, but they refused to budge. Sometimes the knob would turn loosely in his hand, but when he would lean against the door to force it open, it felt as if there was something tremendously heavy leaning right back against it. 

As he continued cautiously down the hall, he came to a t-junction where a new hall branched off to the right. The dull light of a single, dying bulb beckoned to him from the very back of its lonely cove. He hesitated at the darkened mouth of this new hall where the sound of rushing water became louder, more hollow, and debated on whether or not he should follow it. He stood there for several moments, indecisive. 

"…Eiri…" 

He blinked, surprised. 

Had someone just called to him? 

"…Eiri…" 

Despite his trepidation, he took a cautious step toward the voice and was answered by wet footsteps walking away from him. 

"Hello?" he called out. 

Soft laughter returned to him. 

His decision was made. 

The footsteps walked quickly ahead of him, leading him closer to the end of the narrow hall, and he pushed himself to go faster, practically breaking into a flat-out run. He knew that right beneath that hanging bulb was a landing to a set of stairs that would lead down to the third floor or up to the fifth, and he didn't want to let whoever it was in front of him get away. 

Ahead, voices taunted him in a language he didn't understand. 

He reached the landing, but no longer heard the footsteps. The stairway leading up to the next floor was blocked with trash, completely impassable. He considered his options briefly before gripping the steel railing that had been bolted to the wall and starting down the stairs to the third floor. Tiny waterfalls poured from step to step, splashing against his shoes as he counted each stair, remembering that it was only seven to the next landing. The light from the bulb gave way between the fourth and fifth, and he became even more cautious, holding onto the railing even tighter. 

Six, seven— 

A startled cry escaped him as he put his foot into air and nearly toppled over an unexpected edge. The water made the stairs slick, and he quickly pulled himself back. He caught his breath as he peered into the abyss below, vertigo sweeping through him. It appeared that the rest of the staircase had been ripped away. There was no sound of water ringing off anything, so there was no telling how far down the drop was. 

//Jesus…// 

Carefully, he went back up the stairs, returning to the hall that he had started in. //Now what?// 

The fluorescent light flickered one last time, then died. 

Eiri froze in the middle of the hall and held his breath. //Shit.// 

A cool draft whispered past him, and he shivered. He reached out a hand to touch the wall, to find a guide as he continued in complete darkness, and noted immediately that it was dry. He paused. 

Had the hallways changed? 

Suddenly, a light snapped on at the end of the hall, and Eiri jumped. A boy stood there beneath it, maybe only 16 or 17 years old. His head was bowed and his arms hung loosely at his sides. His clothes looked as if they had been nice at once point. A pressed, white shirt with khakis. A uniform of sorts. But now they were dirtied, torn, stained. The right sleeve of his shirt had been ripped completely off, and livid bruises and claw marks stood out angrily on the pale exposed skin. Eiri shuddered, unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. He could practically feel the more painful of the bruises beneath those tattered clothes. 

The boy began to speak. 

"You're… hiding." His tenor voice was harsh and broken, almost a digital distortion. "You're… scared." 

Eiri shook his head, mouth moving to form words, but he found that nothing would come. 

"Why… did you… leave… me?" It sounded as though it was truly painful for the boy to speak, his words hissing and growling through clenched teeth. 

"I—I didn't," Eiri whispered, his throat dry. He was frightened of this memory before him, but at the same time there was a note of grief in those words that that he could empathize with far too well. It gave him the sensation of being slowly strangled. "I didn't leave..." 

"Why did you… run… away?" 

//From what? From who?// "Who are you?" There was no power behind his words, and it came out as more of a soft plea. 

The boy's shoulder's hunched up and he shuddered as if suddenly caught in a fit of pain. "I can't… protect… what… you can't… forget." 

"Please--!" 

"Why did… you… do this… to me?" 

//I didn't! It wasn't me, it wasn't my fault!// "Who are you?!" 

All of a sudden, the boy's head snapped up and Eiri stumbled backward in horror. Blood ran down the youth's face, staining patches of the mussed blonde hair that framed his visage, and his eyes… those unnatural eyes were gone, replaced by deep shadows. Thin ribbons of crimson trickled from the darkness, from the corners of his mouth which were pulled up into an unnaturally wide smile as he choked out, "Why did you… let… me… _die_?" 

And with that the hall was plunged back into darkness. Laughter and whispering voices surrounded him and someone was screaming, someone was screaming as Eiri dropped to his knees with his hands clamped tightly over his ears and he couldn't breathe, his face was wet and he couldn't breathe and someone was screaming someone was screaming someone was screaming someone was – 

Him. 

~*~ 

Eiri jerked awake with a startled gasp, disoriented and shaking. His heart was racing and he was out of breath. It took him a moment to realize that the nightmare was over, and he struggled to focus. He was out of the hallway, away from the boy, and there was no water, no flickering lights. But he still didn't feel safe. 

He was in a car, stretched out and reclining in the passenger's seat. Headlights from the oncoming traffic rolled languidly across the ceiling, and he realized this was not his car. 

"Ah, Eiri-san. You're awake." 

He looked over at the driver more out of reflex than curiosity. That's right. He'd called Touma, hadn't he? 

"I'm glad you're all right," Touma said without looking over at his brother-in-law, the smallest of smiles evident on his profile. 

Eiri studied the older man as if he were an illusion. The after-shock of the nightmare rolled through him like an earthquake, and he listened to the thundering of his heart gradually slow as he willed himself to stop trembling. He was _far_ from "all right". 

"Touma." His voice was barely above a whisper. 

The older man looked over at him, surprised at the use of his first name. "Yes?" 

Eiri paused, turning to stare at the ceiling and the waves of light there. "…is this real?" 

"Eiri-san?" There was only the slightest touch of confusion in Touma's voice. 

Eiri closed his eyes and shook his head. "How do I know I'm not still dreaming?" he murmured in wonder. "How… how do I know what's really happening anymore and…" His mouth was too dry. 

A warm hand closed over Eiri's. "Relax. I can assure you that you're no longer dreaming." Touma's voice was soothing, and Eiri welcomed it. 

//But this could be a dream…// 

~*~ 

The sun was rising by the time they returned to Eiri's apartment. Eiri went straight to the couch, refusing Touma's help even though it was obvious that the younger man could barely support himself. He lay down as Touma went into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a glass of water. Setting it on the coffee table, he sat down opposite his brother-in-law and was silent. 

Eiri stared at the ceiling as he had so often in the past month. The sun was rising. 

It had set only hours ago. 

He remembered his nightmare. 

"There were rose petals," he murmured. "In the snow. In a trail, right up to my car." 

Touma listened. 

"And suddenly… I couldn't breathe. It felt like… I don't know. It wasn't the same as just passing out. It… hurt." 

Silence. 

"How long has it been?" he asked. 

"I found you 20 minutes after you called." 

The time difference didn't add up. 

"Is it still snowing?" 

Touma looked toward the living room window, where sunlight filtered in through the thick white fog that had settled once again. "No," he answered, then frowned. "I'd get that fixed." 

At first, Eiri thought the older man was referring to the snow. "Hn?" 

"That crack. There's a large split in the glass." 

"I don't care," Eiri mumbled as he attempted to sit up. "I'm moving again anyway." 

"Oh?" 

"I can't stand it here anymore." 

"It's a nice apartment." 

"I hate it." 

"I'm sorry to hear that." 

Successfully upright, Eiri leaned forward and braced his arms against his knees until the room stopped spinning. The glass of water sat placidly before him. 

"Have some," said Touma. 

Eiri knew that he was dehydrated, but he only had a few sips before his stomach threatened to rebel. He set the glass on the table before laying back down, utterly exhausted. "I think I need a doctor." 

"I don't think it's anything that serious," Touma said as he rose and came over to the couch. Eiri tried to work out the older man's logic. 

Touma rested a hand on Eiri's forehead. The novelist flinched, lacking the energy to turn away. "Hands are cold," he mumbled, and Touma smiled down at him. 

"As is your apartment, Eiri-san," he replied as he drew his hand back. "I'm surprised you can't see your breath in here." 

Eiri closed his eyes. "I feel like I'm dying," he murmured, reciting the words he'd heard //minutes ago? hours?// earlier that night. It made his head hurt. 

Distantly, he heard the sound of the heater kicking on in the back of his apartment, and shortly after that a blanket was laid over him. He remembered the way Shuuichi had leaned against him on that very couch, pleading to be taken care of, and it made his eyes sting. 

"He was sick," said Eiri softly. "He wouldn't leave me alone, but… I didn't really want him to." He opened his eyes to see Touma looking down at him in concern. "He had something to tell me." 

Touma was silent for a moment. "What was it, Eiri-san?" His tone was quiet. A little too sharp. 

And Eiri closed his eyes again with a defeated sigh. "I don't remember. I can't." 

He felt Touma run a hand through his hair in a gentle, mothering gesture as he said, "I have to leave now, Eiri-san. Get some rest. I'll call later to see how you are." 

Eiri listened to Touma's footfalls recede into nothing, until they were cut off by the sound of the front door closing. 

He was alone again. 

The afterimage of the park burned bright against the white plaster of the ceiling. What he had seen had been impossible, something that could have been viewed as a practical joke. 

But that, he realized, was logic speaking. And logic wasn't worth _shit_ anymore. 

Hundreds, thousands of wilted rose petals had been all over his car, surrounding it, scattered through the snow. While the scene would have been simply obscure in any other situation, it had sparked a deep, almost primal fear within him that made his heart race just thinking about it. 

He growled, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He didn't _want_ to think anymore. Thinking would do nothing for him, and he was already completely worn out as it was. And though it felt like he'd done nothing but sleep lately, he didn't want to move, he didn't want to be conscious any longer than he had to be. 

He was giving up. As far as he was concerned, it was already over. There was nothing left for him now. To think that a month ago, life was as close to perfect as it would ever get. And now… 

//Now all I do is lie on this fucking couch and stare.// 

The sun crept up from below the horizon. 

He felt empty. 

Hollow. 

Sleep was a concept his mind could not grasp. 

He knew that he was going crazy. 

He knew that his lover //ex-lover// was deceased. 

He knew that //crazy shit// things were happening that he couldn't explain. 

He knew that he was far more fragile than he'd expected. 

He knew that Touma was hiding something. 

He knew that if he were to get up and look in a mirror he would see a haggard, broken man with dark circles under his eyes. He knew he would see a truth that he hadn't seen in years and that he wasn't quite ready to see again. 

//Because that's not Yuki Eiri. Yuki Eiri is supposed to be _beautiful_ and _stoic_. And this? This… this is…// 

"Uesugi," he said to the ceiling. "Uesugi Eiri." 

Two completely different people. //But it was never any different to him.// Eiri cringed as he curled up as tightly as he could, trying desperately to shut out those unwanted thoughts. He couldn't think of Shuuichi right then, not in that state, but it was so hard not to. //He didn't care because he was so fucking _accepting_. I could do anything I wanted to him and he would take it and he would enjoy it and he would come back for more like the little idiot that he was because it was _me_ doing it. Not Aizawa, not Touma, not anyone else. _Me_. I was special, his precious 'Yuki'. It was Yuki, it was Uesugi, it was some asshole who treated him like a chore and he didn't care. He didn't care he didn't care he didn't _care_ and I could have hit him I could have beat the _shit_ out of him I could have KILLED--// 

His stomach lurched violently and suddenly he was stumbling from the couch, tangled in the sheet and banging his knee hard into the coffee table, toppling the glass of water as he fought to keep control until he reached the bathroom. 

Minutes later, when there was nothing left in his stomach to empty, he shakily pulled himself up from the floor, supporting his weight against the sink. 

He didn't dare look in the mirror. 

He splashed some cool water on his face and rinsed his mouth out before making his decision. 

He opened the medicine cabinet, reaching for the bottle of tranquilizers. 

They weren't there. 

//The hell…?// 

He rummaged through the cabinet, knocking various other bottles and items aside, sending them clattering into the sink. The tranquilizers were gone. 

With an angry snarl he slammed the cabinet door shut hard enough that it bounced and rattled back open. He leaned against the sink, glaring down at the bottles there. 

"What am I doing?" he whispered. "What the _fuck_ am I doing?" 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

He wanted a cigarette. 

No. 

He wanted a beer. 

He wanted _liquor_. 

He wanted to get so fucking wasted that the pain in his head drowned out the pain of his existence. 

Leaving the mess in the sink, Eiri trudged back down the hall to the kitchen. He passed the coffee table and the soft sound of water dripping onto the floor. 

The muted morning sun cast a warm glow into the kitchen. He did not turn on a light as he made his way to the refrigerator. 

Something glinted on the counter. 

A small orange cylinder sat there, basking in the sunlight. 

A small, _empty_ cylinder. 

Eiri knew what it was before he stalked over to it and snatched it from the countertop. The neatly printed label confirmed that these had been the missing tranquilizers. He frowned. But what were they doing out there? 

_ Tranquilizers, your anxiety pills, anything?   
They're too strong, I don't need them.   
Obviously you do.   
I could always overdose, Touma. Would that make you feel better?   
I'm not worried about that. _

And suddenly, it all fit together. //The nightmare, the fatigue, passing out like that…// 

_ Was just a nightmare.   
I hope there wasn't something wrong with the food. _

"Son of a _bitch_!" Eiri roared as he flung the bottle against the kitchen wall with a resounding CRACK! //He drugged me! He fucking _drugged_ me!// 

_ I think I need a doctor.   
I don't think it's anything that serious. _

His earlier exhaustion was gone, overwhelmed by the adrenaline that raced through him like electrified poison, and he needed to find Touma _right then_ and confront //beat the _fuck_ out of// him. 

He ripped his jacket from the coat hook by the door and dug through the pockets for his car keys as he seethed. //Why? Why would he do such a fucking _stupid_ thing like that? He could have killed me!// 

_ I'm not worried about that. _

His pockets were empty. His cell phone, cigarettes and lighter were missing as well as his keys. 

Reason broke through his momentary hysteria to whisper gently that they had taken Touma's car back to the apartment, which meant that even if he _did_ have his keys… 

//It would be useless anyway.// He didn't bother to hang the coat up again, simply dropped it on the floor as he leaned against the wall and tried to regain his composure. //My car is still at the park. Which means I'm stranded in my own apartment.// 

Why? Why was Touma doing this to him? 

The anger slowly faded, leaving only a deep sense of betrayal that he hadn't felt since the night Kitazawa had— 

//Stop it. Stop. Give up already. You've never had control over any of this, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it now. Stop thinking. Stop remembering. Stop _fighting_. Just… give up.// 

Touma had betrayed him. 

The thought now stirred feelings of sadness and hopelessness. He was too tired to be angry anymore. 

//Just give up.// 

He sank to the floor in defeat. 

//You've lost it all.// 

//Just… give. Up.// 

The soft sounds of the heater were all he heard as he sat there alone in the empty hall, and his only thought was whether or not he should lock the door. 


	8. 07 ::Block Mind::

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. 

**A/N**: *sigh* There really isn't much I can say to justify the lateness of this chapter. A few things in my personal life forced me to put writing this on the backburner for a while, but everything seems to be cleared up now. As of this moment, Chapter Eight is nearly finished and is basically waiting to be beta read, but since my beta reader has started college again, I can't promise it to be released any faster than this one, as much as I would love to promise it. I'm as anxious as anyone else to get this finished, and this chapter certainly leaves off at an awful place to wait another three months before a follow up. So. While I can't promise much, I _can_ say that I'll try my absolute hardest to get the next chapter out before the end of September at the absolute _latest_. Also, thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed and read as far as this. There are only two chapters left (with two possible alternate endings and a chapter of omake), and I hope you'll stick around for the conclusion. 

And so, without any further ado, on with the show... 

** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
Hitori **   
By Acetaminophen 

** Chapter Seven: Block Mind   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ **

The apartment was quiet, almost ominous in its silence. 

Eiri stood in the doorway of his office, wondering why it felt so foreign to be there, wondering what it was that had made him get up from his spot on the floor in the first place. 

He walked into the room. It was warmer than the rest of the apartment, a problem he had run into before when he'd lock himself away in there for hours on end in the middle of a writing frenzy, leaving Shuuichi on his own to mess with the thermostat when he got cold. Countless times, Eiri had left his office-turned-sauna to stalk into the living room and rail on his lover for wasting money, yelling at him to put on some more damn clothes if he was cold. And of course, Shuuichi would give him that hurt, abused animal look, complaining that Eiri spent too much time in his office. When that didn't seem to do much, Shuuichi would fall back on the old standby: threatening to cry until the novelist would give in with an exasperated sigh and Eiri'd suggest alternative ways to keep warm, most of which resulted in Shuuichi wearing less than he had been to begin with. 

The room was just as he had left it: books arranged neatly on their shelves, papers and folders open and sprawled out on the desk where his laptop sat. Signs of use. Remnants of a normal life, or as normal as the two could make it. 

He moved to the desk, shifting papers and skimming the first line of each one. Faxes, loose pages from a manuscript that he'd been editing, letters and other correspondence. Hand-written memos and sticky notes littered the cherry wood surface of the desk, most of them in Eiri's stylish, practiced scrawl, a few in Shuuichi's messy handwriting. Little love notes that the singer would leave for his boyfriend now and then, hiding them in folders as surprises for the novelist. All of this was proof that at one point he'd had something better. Proof that despite all of his troubles, he had been content, that no matter what happened or what kind of despair he fell into, he had come to believe in the security of having someone around who cared about him. 

It was proof that all he had now was a hollow illusion and a failing grip on reality. Surely the presence of someone he had loved was around, but not to help him. Only to torture him, only to taunt him and pull him further and further away from the real world. But who? Which one of the two was it now? 

All of a sudden Eiri lashed out with an angry snarl, sweeping everything violently from the desk in a momentary outburst of rage. The laptop crashed to the floor as he shouted, "WHY?! What the fuck have I done to deserve this?!" //What the hell did I fuck up on so early in life to deserve _this_?!// 

Papers fluttered to the ground, whispering to him as he sank to his knees in despair. "Is this a punishment?" he asked the empty room, his voice losing the frustrated edge and taking on a softer, more strained quality. "Atonement?" He shook his head, looking down at the mess that settled around him. "Damn it, baka! What's keeping you here?!" //How can you stay so close, even in death?!// 

He knew he sounded crazy, but it didn't matter now. //I _am_ crazy. I'm fucking insane, and I don't care.// 

"GO AWAY!" he roared, clutching at the sides of his head. "I don't need you here anymore! I DON'T NEED YOU!" 

//It's not true, it's not true…// 

"Just… go away!" He choked on his words, drained, heartbroken, feeling every single emotion that he had shut out so long ago. //It's not true, it's not true… I need you, stay with me, don't leave me alone…// "Get out of here!" 

//Don't…// 

"Leave me alone!" 

//Don't leave me…// 

He was so tired. He was broken, shattered. "Go away, Shuuichi. This is _my_ hell. _Mine_." Golden eyes dipped shut, shaky breath expelled as he felt his will tremble and leave him. //You don't belong here…// 

Glorious, silent darkness enveloped him in slumber, and for the first time, he wasn't afraid. 

~*~ 

_ Shuuichi had been asleep on the couch all afternoon. Eiri smirked to himself as he sat down next to the boy, who was snuggled deep in the blanket that Eiri had lain over him before returning to his office to continue his edits. Now, four hours later, he'd managed to whittle the bulk of the manuscript down to only 50 pages of edits remaining. Granted, the last 50 were always the hardest, but he was in high spirits all the same and was more or less in the mood to discuss what Shuuichi had wanted to talk to him about. Eiri hadn't even let the boy ask his question, instincts (or rather, experience) telling him that it would most likely be on a subject that would either confuse or irritate him, and otherwise ruin the rest of the day. _

Shuuichi's breathing was deep and even, and for a moment, Eiri wondered if perhaps he should just let the boy sleep. Shuuichi was sick after all, and the more he rested, the sooner he'd get well, which meant the sooner Eiri could shed the mothering routine and go back to his normal role as the Negligent Lover. 

But as he reached out to lay a hand gently on Shuuichi's shoulder, the boy's eyes slowly fluttered open. "Yuki?" he mumbled, still half-asleep. 

"Baka," Eiri purred affectionately. "You were asleep for so long I thought you'd died." He leaned back and searched his pockets for his cigarettes. "How are you?" 

Shuuichi yawned and sat up, stretching his arms over his head. "I feel better." 

Finding one, he put it to his lips as he said, "Good. I was getting tired of playing nursemaid." As he was about to light the cigarette, Shuuichi plucked it from Eiri's lips. "Hey!" Eiri exclaimed in annoyance. "What do you think you're doing?" 

Shuuichi studied the thin white stick between his fingers before putting it in his mouth and attempting to scowl at the same time. "How do I look?" he asked in a sultry tone. 

"Ridiculous." 

Shuuichi removed the cigarette to stick his tongue out at his lover. 

Eiri stifled a grin. "You had something you wanted to ask me?" 

"Mmm, yup, sure did." Flinging the unlit cigarette onto the coffee table, Shuuichi crawled into Eiri's lap, draping his arms around the novelist's neck as he straddled his legs and leaned in close to kiss Eiri on the tip of his nose softly. "Let's go away," he whispered. 

Confused (as he knew he would be) but more than a little interested in what his lover was instigating, Eiri wrapped his arms around Shuuichi's waist and pulled him closer, willing to overlook the stolen cigarette and play this little game. "Where to?" he murmured as he placed a soft kiss on Shuuichi's soft lips. 

"I don't know," said Shuuichi. "Kyoto maybe? We haven't seen your dad in a while." 

Eiri growled and nipped Shuuichi's lower lip playfully. Shuuichi giggled. 

"That's not funny," said Eiri as Shuuichi began to gently press the novelist onto his back. 

"You're cute when you growl," Shuuichi murmured and leaned down to nibble on his lover's ear tenderly. Eiri shivered at the sensation and moaned softly at the boy's ministrations, a small sound that was rarely heard and was considered the highest praise that the vocalist could hope for. Shuuichi grinned and kissed Eiri gently on the lips. "You're cute when you purr too." 

Eiri smirked, threading his fingers through Shuuichi's hair as he held the boy in place, deepening the kiss as Shuuichi squirmed in delight. By the time they pulled away, both were breathless. 

"You better not be contagious," Eiri warned huskily as the boy's slender fingers worked the buttons on the novelist's shirt from their holes. 

"You can't catch someone's cold from kissing them," Shuuichi informed him playfully, successfully getting all of the buttons undone, and Eiri caught the boy's wrists. 

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked as he laid a tender kiss on the inside of Shuuichi's wrist. He liked this, the lazy, languid pace of it all. It was relaxing, almost more than it should have been. 

"Read it somewhere." 

Eiri feigned surprise. "You can read?" 

Shuuichi pouted and hit his lover teasingly. "Yuki! You should be nicer to me." 

"Or else?" 

"Or else I'll… I'll…" 

And then Eiri was looking at him, those unnatural hazel eyes bright with a dangerous light, and suddenly Shuuichi was flipped onto his back with a surprised yelp. Eiri had the boy's wrists pinned above his head as he repositioned himself above Shuuichi and slid a knee between the youth's legs suggestively. Shuuichi gasped and Eiri couldn't help but grin as a rosy blush stained his lover's cheeks. The seduction, it seemed, was over, and Eiri had clearly won. "We don't have to go anywhere to enjoy ourselves," he purred as he kissed and nibbled the junction of Shuuichi's neck. 

"So… I guess Kyoto's out of the question?" Shuuichi breathed, letting his eyes fall closed. 

"Absolutely." 

"What about Tochigi?" 

Eiri paused. //Tochigi?// 

Shit. 

Apparently the seduction wasn't quite over yet. However, the motivation was now a little clearer. 

Eiri pulled back slightly, and Shuuichi opened his eyes, amethyst clouded with confusion as to why his lover had stopped. "Isn't that where your family lives?" asked Eiri suspiciously. 

Shuuichi blinked. "Uhm… maybe?" Aha, the brat was caught and he knew it. 

"It is." 

Shuuichi bit down on his lower lip nervously. 

Eiri leaned in close, their lips centimeters apart. "You're proposing that we go see your family," he deadpanned. 

"M-maybe…" 

Shuuichi's non-committal answers were becoming more irritating than cute. The brat wanted something, and whatever it was, he'd known ahead of time that Eiri wasn't going to go for it easily. 

Briefly, he wondered if this 'cold' had been timed. 

Whatever playfulness Eiri had felt earlier was quickly icing over. "Why, baka?" 

Shuuichi knew the game was over and sighed in defeat. "It's my mom's birthday." 

"When?" 

"This Saturday." 

Eiri laughed, an insulted, surprised laugh. "Absolutely not!" 

Shuuichi immediately sat up and threw his arms around Eiri's neck, hugging the novelist closely to him. "Please, Yuki?" 

"I said 'no', baka!" Eiri growled as he tried to pry the boy off of him. "I have too much to get done before Saturday and I _certainly_ don't have the time to drive you all the way out there just because _you_ had to wait until the very last minute to tell me about this!" 

"Yuki, please! I really want you to come with me, and I can't just _not_ go! I didn't get to see her last year since I was on tour with the band." 

"Then don't not go! You don't need me to get you there! Hell, you're one of NG's top singers and you're trying to tell me you can't find any way to get out to Tochigi?" Eiri felt a headache coming on, with a strong craving for a cigarette right behind it. "Anyway, it's not like your family's expecting me to be there, certainly you… could…" 

Eiri trailed off. 

Shuuichi bit on his lip a little more. 

//Oh Jesus _Christ_...// 

"You told them I'd come, didn't you." 

"Well--" 

"Baka!" Eiri yelled as he angrily stood up from the couch. "Why the hell did you do that?!" 

"Because I thought you would!" said Shuuichi, sitting up hurriedly. 

"Even though you _knew_ I had a manuscript to get done this week?!" 

"I--" 

"_Christ_, baka!" Eiri cut him off angrily as he began rebuttoning his shirt, looking away from the youth. "How can you be so goddamned selfish?" 

"But--!" 

"And pulling this seduction act?" 

"Yuki--" 

"I mean what the hell are you, some kind of whore?" 

"Yuki stop it!" 

Eiri left the last two buttons undone, looking at Shuuichi, who was now sitting on the edge of the couch with his head in hands. Eiri felt a momentary pang of guilt. 

"I… I just…" Shuuichi shook his head, the sound of his voice making it obvious that he was trying not to cry. "I just really wanted you to come. That's all…" 

"Well that's too damn bad." Eiri cringed inwardly. He felt like an asshole. 

Shuuichi jumped up from the couch and grabbed Eiri's hands. "Please, Yuki!" 

Eiri shook him off and stalked to his office. "No no _no_! Call your family and tell them you made a mistake because there is _no way_ I'm going anywhere this weekend." 

"But--!" 

And suddenly Eiri turned on him, golden eyes narrowing with a predatory glint, and Shuuichi stumbled back, hitting the wall as his incredibly irritated lover pinned him there with a hand on either side of the cowering boy. He'd never hit Shuuichi; just the thought of it made him a bit sick to his stomach. And he was fairly certain that the brat knew he could never raise a hand to him, no matter how agitated he became. But at that very moment, as Shuuichi looked up at him with something akin to fear in his amethyst eyes, Eiri couldn't be quite so sure. And it unnerved him. And he wished he could stop and apologize and agree to whatever ridiculous demand the boy could think up. 

But it was just so hard. 

And he just couldn't stop. 

"What part of 'absolutely not' don't you understand, baka?" Eiri said softly, his tone smooth and feral. 

"I—I'm sorry," Shuuichi stammered. 

Eiri scoffed and shook his head as he moved away from Shuuichi, walking into his office. "Don't bother me," was all he said as he shut the door. 

~*~ 

The phone was ringing. 

_Click_. 

"I am unavailable to answer the phone right now," said the feminine, pre-recorded voice. "Please leave a message after the beep." 

_Beep_. 

"…Yuki." 

The voice on the machine stirred him momentarily, his mind too foggy to be sure if what he was hearing was real, too tired to care. 

"Your black book. You left something in there." 

A pause. 

"I can't wait to see you again. I miss you." 

The machine clicked off. 

~*~ 

The phone was ringing. 

Slowly, Eiri opened his eyes, his vision focusing on papers and a broken laptop as he gradually woke. The phone continued to ring. //The machine… let the machine get it.// 

Four rings. Five rings. The machine didn't pick up. 

Eiri closed his eyes again, silently willing whoever was calling to hang up. 

Eight rings, nine… 

Tiredly, Eiri picked himself up from the floor. He glanced at the mess that was still scattered all over the ground as he walked to where the phone had landed. The cordless had skittered to the opposite side of the office; the cradle was hanging by the cord that connected it to the answering machine, which still sat on the corner of his desk. 

As he passed the machine, he noticed that he had no new messages. 

Thirteen rings— 

"Hello," he answered in a low, tired voice. 

"Eiri-san?" 

Touma. 

He remained silent. 

"Eiri, are you there?" A pause. "Are you all right?" 

For a moment, he didn't know what to do. Then, quietly: "Why are you calling me, Seguchi?" 

"Just to check on you. Is everything all right? I tried calling earlier but it seems that you might have left the phone off the hook." 

"I'm fine." 

Touma sighed. "No, Eiri, you aren't." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"I know you." 

"Bullshit." 

"Eiri--" 

"For as long as I've known you, Seguchi, you've never been caught in any unsavory act. So then why did you let me find the pills?" 

"Pills?" 

"The pills, Seguchi," Eiri growled, suddenly vehemently irritated. "The pills that you slipped in my food during dinner, the pills that gave me those hallucinations and made me pass out in the middle of a fucking parking lot. The pills that _you_ left on the kitchen counter for me to find." 

"Because I don't lie to you, Eiri-san," Touma answered smoothly. 

"That's twisted." 

"No, that's manipulative. Twisted would be if I had hidden them again, or blamed it on your ghost." 

Eiri clenched his jaw. "Fuck you, Seguchi." 

"Please Eiri, don't strain yourself. You should really be relaxing right now." 

"You think I'm going to listen to a goddamn thing you have to say after what you've done to me? Either you've got balls or you're just fucking stupid." 

"Does that make you feel better?" 

"Goddamn it, I _trusted_ you!" Eiri snarled, gripping the phone so tightly that he heard the plastic casing creak. "I trusted you more than I've ever trusted anyone in my life--" 

"Almost," Touma interrupted. 

Eiri scowled. "Excuse me?" 

"You _almost_ trusted me more than anyone." Touma's voice was tolerant, gentle almost, like a teacher patiently correcting his frustrated student. "Certainly there was someone else whom you deemed far more worthy for the depth of confidence you're professing." 

//Is he _taunting_ me?// 

"I'm coming back, Eiri-san. I'll be there shortly." 

"Seguchi, if you so much as set one _foot_ in this goddamn apartment," said Eiri, his words barely above a whisper but dangerous nonetheless, "I swear I'll kill you." 

Touma laughed softly, and his voice became smoother. "My, you've certainly developed quite a taste for this, haven't you?" 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"It means you already know what happened to him." And there was the ice that Eiri knew had been coming; it would have sent a shiver throughout him if he hadn't suppressed it. "All of it, down to the very last detail. It seems that you're only missing one small piece of the puzzle. I'm willing to help you recover it now, Eiri-san. If you like." 

He hated the older man for the sickened anxiety and fear that suddenly twisted in his stomach at the coolness of those words. "I'm sick of your games, Seguchi. I don't want to hear it." 

However, right before Eiri could hang up, Touma was purring in his ear again. 

"_You_ killed him." 

There was a soft _click_, and the line went dead. 

For a few moments, he didn't move. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing. 

And then the silence of the room grew to be too much and so Eiri let the phone drop back to its place on the floor, barely registering the jarring sound of plastic smacking against hard wood. For a brief moment he wondered if the silence had flooded his mind. 

//Don't listen to him.// Was he breathing yet? The room was too warm. //Don't listen to him. Don't listen to him. He's lying, don't listen to him.// 

It became a steady mantra, a wall, a temper tantrum thrown by his inner child with his fingers in his ears and humming while Touma's words continued to echo in his memory. He wasn't going to think about it because Touma was lying and he wasn't going to listen to him and was the front door locked? 

What did he do now? 

What was he supposed to do? 

…what was left? 

And then, a small sound came to him from the floor just beyond his desk. Digital grinding and a nearly inaudible beep. Sounds that, realistically, shouldn't have been able to exist. 

//Realistically.// 

Slowly, Eiri approached the laptop, which had been broken in half. The screen lay a few inches from the body, hanging on by a few wires, and by the time he crouched down beside it, a new document had been opened. The display rolled for a moment before words were typed hesitantly by unseen hands. 

_What is it I'm waiting for in this room without you?_

Eiri blinked. It was the lyrics to that song again. For a moment, he wondered how long it had been since he'd last heard it. A few days? A week? 

It didn't matter. 

"It… it's just the clock's ticking," he recited softly. 

New words came onto the screen. Words he knew by heart. 

_But it resonates in my sleepless heart like the sound of footsteps. _

Even now… 

Here the words paused, and faintly, Eiri heard the sound of a door creaking open somewhere in the apartment. 

He already knew which one it was. 

He didn't need to see the last line that appeared on the screen before it flashed once and died. He didn't need to be told what to do. 

Without a second thought, Eiri stood and left the office, walking into the hallway. 

Sure enough, the bedroom door stood slightly ajar, maybe only an inch or two. 

He didn't move. 

Touma's words had, for the most part, given up and retreated into the recesses of his mind as he assessed the situation. The door was open. 

And he knew that whatever would help him in figuring out this muddled riddle was within his reach if he would only take that one. Little. Step. 

Cautiously, Eiri moved forward. 

Just one little step and he'd be that much closer to getting his life back. 

Distantly he heard music, the soft sound of a whispering voice by itself, soothing, a gentle lullaby for a sleepless heart that could finally face its awakening. 

And two little words pushed him forward. 

_I'm waiting_. 


	9. Author's Note

Sorry guys, didn't mean to get your hopes up with an update. I just thought that since it's been awhile since the last chapter was posted that I'd let you know what was going on.  
  
First though, thank you so much for your reviews. I'm so glad that those of you who have read this far are enjoying it, and your reactions are just lovely. I'm thrilled that the effect I've been trying for is being achieved.  
  
All right, so where's the rest of it? No, Hitori is not over, and I don't plan on dropping it entirely. After putting so much work into something, however meaningless, it still seems like a shame to just dump it. This is the first chaptered thing (period, concerning fanfiction and original works) that's lasted as long as it has. So no, Hitori is not dead.  
  
It is, however, on, er, extended standby. As it is, I've fallen out of love with the series. (/tear) Plus, I've been so distracted by other things/series/original ideas, that it's a bit difficult to get back into the flow of the story, you know? You could say I'm pulling a CLAMP on this one.  
  
So, there you have it. For the "tl;dr" crowd:  
  
Hitori is not over.  
  
Hitori is not dead.  
  
While it may not be within the next week (or month, even), I do plan on finishing this fic.  
  
So there you have it. Please bear with me on this, and I promise not to let you down!  
  
~Acetaminophen 


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